Change Comes From Within
by Kitara Lira
Summary: Part II of a Strings series
1. Chapter 1

_**Change Comes From Within**_

_**Part I  
**_

_**K.L.**_

A/N: Unedited. I got lazy._**  
**_

* * *

It had been nearly a week since Santana has walked out of Glee – Brittany in hand. The social divisions that had long ago faded began resurfacing.

Puck and Quinn distanced themselves significantly from the others – adding special distance for their female lead. It was to such an extent that when Mr. Schuester had asked Puck to stand next to Rachel in choreography he replied with a stern no. When the teacher continued to press – reminding him they were a family now – Puck turned icy eyes on the man, _"A family?" _A chill fell through the room and soon its focus turned to the small lead, _"Why don't you tell that to that fucking bitch! Bet she doesn't know the meaning of anything but me or I."_ And before anyone could refute – or concur – Quinn had taken his hand guiding him toward the exit.

As for the original members – minus Finn and Rachel of course – they spoke only amongst themselves, occasionally including Mike and Matt into conversation.

Finn seemed confused about the whole ordeal not sure. He wasn't sure where his allegiance fell anymore and so for the most part he kept to himself.

And Rachel? Though she had taken a vow of silence had returned to her ways - the weekend seemingly erasing from her mind the occurrences of last week.

* * *

"Listen, I understand things are a little… tense," Their curly haired teacher moved his gaze across the room doing his best to ignore the two empty seats, "But we need to prepare ourselves for Regionals. Even with Jesse transferring back to Carmel we're still as strong as ever. If we don't continue to work hard each and everyday however they will surely stomp us in the competition." His words fell on deaf ears, the hostility within the rooming having reached an all time high. So for the third time this week the man was forced to grant early dismissal.

Everyone slowly filtered out, leaving behind only one petite brunette.

"Rachel?" The brunette turned to face the voice, revealing none other than Mr. Schuester himself.

"Yes?" The voice didn't carry its normal vibrato, the colouring under her eyes distinctly darker than normal.

"Listen Rachel last week you were out of line. I understand you don't deem me qualified for this job. You believe my lessons and choices inadequate and you feel no one in this club can compare to you or your talent, but that in no way gives you any right to cross the line you did last Tuesday. Not everyone has been doing this as long as you Rachel and with that said not everyone takes this as seriously as you either."

"Well may-"

"No Rachel – they're teenagers! They just want to have a little fun, have a place to escape from all the dramas of high school, a place to relax!" The man rose his hand to stop the words forming on the brunette's tongue, "Rachel not everyone is like you – they're not set on their dreams – and this is a crucial moment for them to find them. If you can't provide them with an environment where they feel welcome Rachel… then I'm going to have to ask you to leave Glee. I can't have others being hurt. This is your only warning Rachel," Shuffling a few papers, Mr. Schue offered a soft smile, "That's all I had to say Rachel, thank you for listening."

And with that she was left to her thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Change Comes from Within_**

**_Part II_**

**_K.L.  
_**

A/N: Kind of choppy, my apologies. _  
_Song: Ramalama Bang Bang by Roisin Murphy_  
_

* * *

The walk home had been a blur. Her fathers voiced their concerns but the words slipped past her grasp. Something from earlier...

Rachel had never meant to hurt Santana – nor the rest of the Gleeks for that matter – however it seemed her over bearing need to excel had pushed those around her to their breaking points. Her need to be right, her need to be first, and her need for so many other things… they were destroying the only people who had ever cared for her.

True some had never voiced this but they had stood up for her in the face of Jesse St. James hadn't they? They attempted casual conversation and inserted fashion tips – courtesy of Kurt. And in one instance Puck had even rescued her from Karofsky's impending attack while Quinn chased the Neanderthal down the hallway nearly eight months pregnant – Rachel was still surprised at how easily the blonde managed to exude her HBIC self while more or less waddling after the sputtering jock.

They were all changing while she stood still. Though she had become – in the words of one Mercedes Jones – slightly more tolerable, Rachel had done little to treat those around her as her equal. Even with everything they had done or were doing to be more of a family… Her and her selfish ways had gone and burned all that. Puck had been right with his statement and only now did she see this.

"I never meant-" Rachel chocked back her sobs curling further into her bed. This wasn't what she wanted.

* * *

Rachel slept little that night and when she walked onto the school grounds she felt her heart cry. Just standing here was a reminder of all her short comings particularly toward her fellow Gleeks. Furthermore it was a reminder that somewhere within was someone she had hurt deeply – though Rachel doubted she would ever show that hurt to anyone.

She took one step.

To be honest, Rachel had tried to find the other brunette the day after her outburst. But Santana had other ideas avoiding her at all costs and Rachel had to hand it to her if the Latina didn't want to be found she wouldn't be; even Brittany couldn't be found.

Another step.

Mr. Schuester's words – though true – had hurt more than she had anticipated.

Followed by another.

But something about this seemed…

The brunette never took her next step. From the choir room she could hear two voices – even through the throngs of students. They were female.

"Oh come on!"

Chocolate orbs widened – it was Brittany!

"No way B, you're crazy."

Rachel cautiously glanced into the room. Seated at the piano were two Cheerios – Brittany and Santana. It took every fiber within for Rachel to stop herself from barging in on the obviously private moment and demand the Latina accept her apology and the two return to Glee.

"Awe why not S? You asked me to pick a song and I did!"

The actions of the two were hidden to the diva as she could only see their backside and the current shake of the head that Santana was offering to the blonde.

"Because B there isn't anything in it I can teach to you – the song is primarily percussion based. I don't even know if they know what a piano is!"

The room was silent, Santana shifting uncomfortably next to the blonde on the bench, "Uggh fine, we'll do it. Just don't blame me if it doesn't work out. Now we'll start the way we always do."

Rachel imagined the blonde to be grinning from ear to ear – Brittany had the girl wrapped around her finger.

Wait. Had Santana said teach? The piano?

As if to answer her question sound echoed through the room – the notes of the piano coming out in an odd mix.

"Could a body close the mind out? Stitch a seam across the eye, if you can be good you'll live forever."

Brittany joined in, sliding her head from left to right whilst raising the corresponding shoulder in an over exaggerated manner, "If you're bad, you'll die when you die!"

Jaw slack, eyes wide, Rachel couldn't help but stare. What where they singing?

Santana fell into a similar pattern as her bench mate both singing with a low rather husky voice, "Hearing only one true note on the one and only sound." At this Brittany stood, abandoning the piano in favour of open space.

"Unzip my body," At this the blonde raised her right hand to above her mid chest, motioning it downward with the lyrics, "Take my heart out," The right hand seem to tear back at what she had seemingly unzipped, drawing her left up to her chest than back out, her fingers squeezing twice to mimic the beat of a heart, "Cause I need a beat to give this tune!"

At the piano Santana continued to clunker away and though the sound seemed foreign on her ears Rachel found it fit well with both the lyrics and Brittany's interpretive dance.

The two began to alternate, allowing Santana to start the first line.

"Everybody smile please."

"Nobody pay no mind to me."

"Finger in position on the switch," The brunette paused, turning to the blonde, hands raised to form a mock camera.

With a smirk the blonde struck a pose before allowing the next line to leave her lips, "A little flash photography!"

Together they took on the next section, Santana turning back to the ivory keys, Brittany dancing about the piano, "Taking a picture of you. Taking a picture of, taking a picture of me. Taking a picture! Ramalama bang bang flash bang big bang bing bong ding dong dum dum d'dum dum!"

Slipping away from the door Rachel felt her chest tighten. She had never seen the two act like _that _in Glee. Brittany perhaps but this was to a whole new level. And Santana? No the Latina had never seemed so free before – not even as a Cheerio. They had such talent – Rachel hated to admit – so why had the two never shown themselves as such at practice?

Chocolate orbs widened in realisation, the words but a whisper, "It's me."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Change Comes from Within_**

**_ Part III_**

_**K.L.**_

A/N: Unedited. All mistakes are mine - go figure. This is the last chapter of part two of the _Strings _series. Enjoy._**  
**_

* * *

Rachel couldn't focus.

History passed without so much as a peep from the brunette – causing many to double and even triple check the girl's presence. Math followed in a similar pattern, accompanied by hush murmurs. '_Is she sick?' 'Has she been abducted by aliens and replaced by an identical android?' _Those were just a few of the conversation snippets the diva had been able to catch. But she didn't care the internal turmoil of yesterday's conversation and this morning's discovery had left her a mess internally. So much so that by lunch Rachel found herself at her locker tucking the necessary books into her bag before making the trek home.

Even though her fathers were at work Rachel waited – ascending the stairs – until she was in her room to allow a single tear to escape. The first was warning of the flood to come and as if to brace herself Rachel fell back on the closed door. Her knees quaked and her body shook.

Why?

Rachel felt her knees give out, body descending.

It was Santana – someone who had tormented her since the moment they met. Someone with a sharper tongue than Quinn. Someone with a cold exterior. Someone who could play both the guitar and piano with the same fluency she spoke Spanish and English. Someone who hide her voice… Someone…

With her fathers permission Rachel spent the next day under the safe and warm embrace of her blankets.

The warning bell went with Rachel heading in the exact opposite direction as her morning History class. If her sixth sense was right – which as of late seemed not to be the case – than the choir room would be occupied. And if it was wrong she would have wasted a good ten minutes on nothing more than tomfoolery – not a great loss.

As Rachel drew closer she caught the faint sound of music – her sixth sense hasn't failed her it seemed.

There seated at the piano was Santana – no Brittany in sight – lightly pressing at the keys.

Rachel felt she could just watch the Latina tinker away on the piano until dusk came and went but what good would that do? How would that solve their current predicament? It was now or never.

"You know it's creepy when you just stand there."

The diva – who had been about to step – found her world spin. Though her reflexes caught and corrected her they couldn't take with them the slack jaw and utter shock that remained. "I-I-…" Rachel was sure she resembled a fish out of water at this point, "How?"

"How?" A chuckle escaped, Santana shooting a glance back toward the brunette who could only nod her tongue seemingly tied, "You breathe like you're having sex."

Silence enveloped the room – Rachel processing and Santana waiting for her to process.

"Santana Lopez!" And there it was, "I do not breathe like I'm having sex!"

Shoulders rose than fell, "Could have fooled me." The brunette raised her hands as if to play before dropping them back to her lap, "What are you doing here Berry?"

Clearing her throat Rachel gave Santana's back a pointed look, "I came to apologize for last week. What I said I said without thought or consideration – a flaw I am willing to admit. It was the heat of the moment, my words fuelled by my frustration with the lack of understanding our fello-"

"But you meant it," Santana cut in, her tone void of any emotion.

"No," Taking a step forward, arm raised, Rachel sought to comfort the other, "I nev-"

"Don't lie to me!" The sound of wood on linoleum echoed through the room.

Rachel raised her eyes the words upon her lips dying the moment they met the opposing pair. They were filled with more emotion than the brunette had ever seen and it wasn't just seven shades of anger. Swallowing the lump and gathering what little courage remained Rachel took a step forward, "You're right," A defeated sigh left her body, "At the time I did mean it, every bit of it. But the moment the words left my lips I knew they were wrong." The gap between them vanished as Rachel found her left hand clinging to the sleeve of the Cheerio's uniform, "You have to believe me." She didn't miss the way Santana cringed.

It was as if the touch burned, sending the Latina stumbling back and onto the piano bench, "No," She hissed, ponytail shaking back and forth violently, "No!" Turning back to the ivory keys, Santana ran her fingers along them.

Lips parted as to speak.

"Don't. What you did… I get it. I'm a bitch. I'm lowly and grim–" A laugh escaped, "Funny isn't it?" Fingers depressed keys, "You apologising to me. Before you know it you and Coach will be all chummy and buddy-buddy."

Again she reached out and when she was met with no resistance Rachel ran her finger through the coffee coloured locks of the girl before her, "Santana…"

"I don't want your apology Berry," Santana slumped over the keys in defeat, "To be honest I never did."

There was more, more to it than what was alluded to. So Rachel waited, waited until she knew the other brunette would not continue, "What did you want Santana?" She inquired softly seating herself on the edge of the bench, her hand never disentangling from dark locks, "What _do_ you want?"

Head rising, Santana turned, the hand that was resting on the back of her head shifting to her cheek, "Approval," The Latina turned her head more, tenderly kissing the awaiting palm, "Acceptance," Another kiss, "Redemption."

In the depth of chocolate coloured orbs swirled vulnerability – an emotion Rachel had never once seen since meeting the brunette. But as quick as it had come it was gone replaced by a gaze colder than ice causing Rachel to recoil.

For the second time Santana rose in a rush – smacking away the lingering hand, "But not all of us live in the same pink God damn fucking happy bubble you do Berry." The Cheerio's voice dripped with venom, "What I want and what are plausible are two very different things. I've accepted this. I think it's time you did the same." And with that the brunette spun on her heels once again leaving Rachel in the choir room alone with her thoughts.


End file.
